


A Question of Life

by verfound



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Moana (2016)
Genre: Dreamwalking, F/M, It's tough to be a (demi)god, Maui's an emotionally stunted stubborn ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9377282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: If it came to sending monsters back to Lalotai or having a heart-to-heart with his favorite mortal, he would choose Lalotai every time.  His armor was old, and weathered, and he’d choose a joke and an adventure over feelings any day.  Which was probably what had landed him in this mess, come to think of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Readily admitting that despite the research there might be some slight bastardization of the original myths in true Disney fashion. Also, there is a long and glorious tradition of dreamwalking in certain lores, and it doesn’t always have to be facilitated by a roofied peach.

_“Life is only precious because it ends, kid.  Take it from a god.  You mortals don’t know how lucky you are.” – Mars, The Son of Neptune – Rick Riordan_

 

Maui was, by nature, brash, reckless, conceited, a little egomaniacal, and a downright coward.  He knew all of this about himself.  Part of it was due to his nature as a demigod, true, but part of it was also just the way he was.  If he was cocky it was because – as an immortal, pretty darn near indestructible being blessed with incredible strength, hair, and a kickass magical fishhook – he knew he was awesome, and he didn’t see a problem owning that.  If he was impetuous it was because – again, cue immortality – he knew he couldn’t really get hurt and didn’t mind throwing caution to the wind.  If he was a coward…well, it was because he may or may not have enough psychological damage that he wasn’t the best with the emotions thing, so he was pretty damn good at running.  If it came to sending monsters back to Lalotai or having a heart-to-heart with his favorite mortal, he would choose Lalotai every time.  His armor was old, and weathered, and he’d choose a joke and an adventure over _feelings_ any day.

 

Which was probably what had landed him in this mess, come to think of it.

 

Moana had been happy when he had landed – or at least she had been trying to make everyone think she was.  But he knew her, knew the subtleties of the strained look to her expression, and he was quick to pull her aside and ask how she really was.  He was a friend, after all.  It was only natural to be concerned for…friends.  Because that’s what they were.  Friends.  And just because he didn’t like approaching his own emotions didn’t mean he didn’t care about hers.

 

Her face had only darkened at his question, however, and she hadn’t even made any excuses to her parents before she had grabbed his ear and pulled him away from the feast he had interrupted.  He was thankful she had at least waited to start yelling until they were a respectable distance from the celebration.

 

And oh, she had done some yelling.

 

_Because he had stayed away too long this last time._   It wasn’t his fault, except that it was.  He had known he needed to come back, had wanted to see her again, but every time his thoughts had turned to the curly-haired not-a-princess that had wiggled her way so far into his heart he was forced to acknowledge that yes, she was in his heart.  He was starting to develop Feelings, and – cue the emotionally stunted demigod – he wasn’t good with those.  So he had stayed away, hoping they would just go away or…or…he wasn’t sure.  He wasn’t good with that sort of thing, damn it.

 

_Because the feast was to celebrate her wedding tomorrow._   The words were a physical blow, like she had just slammed her favorite oar into his gut with all the force of the hurricane she could be.  In their voyages, they had met other tribes.  The sons of many chiefs and the greatest warriors had stepped forward, all vying for her hand to solidify diplomatic negotiations.  Marriages of convenience, of political import.  She had fought her father as long as she could, but she was to be chief – the latest in a long, proud line of chiefs.  She had to continue that line.

 

_Because her groom to be was not who – what – she wanted._   Erepu was a fine man.  He was a fierce warrior, a great fisherman, and a strong leader, but he was not the man Moana wanted to spend her life with.  She would not say that he terrified her.  She was Moana, and she was not afraid of a mere mortal man.  But he was intimidating in his cold austerity, and he lacked the warmth and the life of the man she truly wanted.

 

_Because she wanted him, and he had not been around to prevent any of this from happening._   It was a cruel irony, in a way.  He had stayed away because he was realizing he was in love with her, and in light of that realization had realized – assumed – that she could never love him back.  She was so young, so full of life, and he was…Maui, demigod.  He was so blastedly _old_.  What could he ever offer her?  What could he hope to give her?  How could he make her happy?  She was mortal.  She would grow old, grow to resent and eventually hate him for a life he wanted to strap her with.  Even if she thought that was what she wanted now, she would grow to learn better while he remained unchanged.  It was better she marry Erepu.  He could give her what she needed.  He could –

 

The pain blossoming in his cheek wasn’t just metaphorical this time, and it occurred to him that somewhere in her rant he had begun to vocalize his internal self-flagellation.  She stood before him, chest and shoulders heaving after so long screaming at him, with her arm hovering, shaking from where it hung after lashing out at him.  Her other hand was clenched into a fist, and her eyes…gods above, below, and between she was _furious_.  He swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to reach up and touch his stinging cheek.

 

“I love _you_ , Maui, but you are too much of an emotionally stunted, stubborn ass to realize you love me, too,” she hissed, voice thick.  “And if you can’t acknowledge that…then I suppose I am going back to the celebration, and tomorrow I will marry Erepu, and you can get the hell off our island.”

 

Watching her walk away took more strength than he thought he was capable of.  When she disappeared around the bend, heading back up the path to the welcoming torchlight of the village, he wasted no time in shifting to his preferred hawk form and leaving the island far behind him.

 

– V –

 

Flying had always come easy to him.  It was a release, an escape, and he relished the feeling of the wind cutting through his feathers.  This time, however, was different.  The wind seemed to drag against him, pulling him back to the very island he was so desperate to escape.  When he landed not too long after, not quite as far as he’d like but far enough away that Moana would not be able to easily follow, he collapsed in an exhausted heap on the beach.  He welcomed the blackness that was quick to rise up and greet him.

 

When he awoke, the world was glittering around him in blazing daylight – which was strange, since the sun seemed to be missing from the sky.  He groaned as he sat up, his muscles protesting in a way they never did after so short a flight.  Looking around, he was surprised to find he hadn’t made it much farther than the beach the previous night.  On the horizon he could see a speck, one he knew was Moana’s island.  It was a good day’s sailing away, but that thought was not a comfort.  With how bright it was, even without being able to locate the sun…she would be married by now.  She would not be coming after him.

 

Not that he wanted her to.

 

“Oh, now isn’t that just so very defeatist of you?”

 

The voice was enough to make him freeze.  The nearest inhabited island was a good week’s trip away.  While this particular island was ripe with animal life, there should be nothing here that would be able to hold a conversation with him.  Nothing good, at least.  He was tense as he turned, slowly, and a lead weight dropped in his stomach when he came full circle.  He had been right: nothing good was on this island.

 

Maui was by no means a small man, but standing behind him was a man that dwarfed him in comparison.  He stood a good three heads taller than Maui, and he was nothing but imposing bulk.  His hair was white and wispy, like clouds high on a hot summer’s day, yet there was something ageless about him.  His eyes were pale, a color usually only seen in the blind – but there was a sharpness and clarity to them that told he was anything but.  His tanned skin was covered in markings, certainly more than Maui possessed, weaving a tale of strength, power, and eternity.  He was dressed simply, in a plain lavalava that was the color of sunsets.  Red for royalty, etched in gold for the rays of a dying sun.  He wore no headdress, as one might expect, but the brown feathers of a great hawk were woven into the hair near his forehead.  Maui remembered the day he lost those feathers, the ghost of an ache twinging in his shoulder.

 

There was a time, long before Maui could remember, when a human woman had looked upon her premature child, wrote him off for dead, and tossed him into the sea.  The Sky Father had known better.  He had seen the greatness this child was destined for, and he had scooped him up in a great wind and brought him to this home in the clouds where he had proceeded to raise him as his own.  He had blessed him with immortality, great strength, the life of a demigod.  He had crafted a magical fishhook and taught him how to be as malleable as the breeze.  And then, when he was grown and could learn no more, he had cruelly cast him back into the sea.  He had returned him to the humans who had abandoned him without any real explanation.  _“You are a demigod,”_ he had said.  _“I can only teach you so much, my son.  You must find your own way.”_

 

Maui’s was a history of abandonment, of constantly trying to prove he was worth keeping.  Worthy of love, of admiration and praise, of respect.  That he was worth _something_.  The legends would have him believe Ranginui had known this, had seen it the day he had scooped him out of the ocean, but history was not so kind.  Maui had not seen the Sky Father since the day he had been cast back into the sea, when those two feathers had been forcibly ripped from his wings as he had been hurled from the only home he had ever known.

 

Until now, on this isolated little beach.  Standing where he should never be able to stand.

 

“Father…” the word came out as a choked gasp, a whisper of breath forcing its way free from his strangled throat.  Rangi’s face unexpectedly crinkled in a warm smile, like the sun breaking through on an otherwise overcast day.

 

“Maui,” the elder god said, inclining his head towards him.  “It has been entirely too long, my son.”

 

They stood in a moment of tense silence.  Maui hesitated, unsure what was expected of him.  How to react.  How does one great the god who raised you after an immortal lifetime apart?  As he watched him, Rangi sighed – a great heaving puff that stirred the surrounding trees with a breeze.  His arms unfolded from his chest, opening in a gesture of welcome, and when Maui remained unmoved Rangi stepped forward instead and embraced him.  He tensed, unused to the affectionate gesture.  It was one thing when Moana rushed at him, hugging him in exuberant delight.  It was expected from her, something so very human as holding another person as close as you possibly could.  It was another thing entirely coming from the Sky Father.  If Rangi picked up on his discomfort, he certainly didn’t show it.  Instead, he barked out a laugh and pulled back, clasping both hands on his shoulders as he took a moment to look him over.  His eyes twinkled like sunlight on the sea as they danced from tattoo to tattoo, his smile growing with every accomplishment.

 

“You, my boy, have been busy,” he finally said.  Maui shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and he winced when Rangi reached out and poked his breast, the pad of his finger pressing against the tiny Moana sailing there.  “I especially like this one.”

 

Rangi’s gaze softened at the way he flinched.  He knew he should say something, but he couldn’t.  The words failed to come, and even if they would what could he possibly say to this imposing force of nature before him?  Beings like Rangi were above small talk and idle conversation, and their visits were never casual occurrences – if they occurred at all.  Maui knew an opportunity like this was unlikely to come again, but there was so much – too much – to say.  Accusations and supplications alike cloyed at his throat, but he stubbornly swallowed them down.  Rangi had to be here for a reason, and it wasn’t so Maui could vent an itemized list of millennia of petty disagreements.  For his part, after realizing Maui wasn’t likely to respond, Rangi sighed and clapped his hand against the younger demigod’s shoulder.

 

“Come,” he said, gesturing to the beach.  “Walk with me, son.”

 

He began moving along the beach, and Maui had little choice but to follow along.  Maui kept his head bowed as they moved, but he glanced up to see Rangi was looking around with that same easygoing, genteel smile on his face.  He had turned from the sea to study the island interior, taking in the jungle beyond the beach.  He hummed appreciatively as he reached up and plucked a fruit from a nearby tree.  He took a large bite, devouring nearly half the fruit.

 

“Not one of yours,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at Maui, “but delicious nonetheless!  Would you like one?”

 

Maui didn’t get a chance to refuse him before Rangi was plucking another and pressing it to his hands.

 

“Father,” Maui finally sighed in exasperation, “why are you here?”

 

Rangi paused, taking a moment to chew and swallow the rest of the fruit before answering.  He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and finally looked back to him.

 

“Tell me, Maui.  What have you been up to?” he asked.  It wasn’t much of an answer, and Maui’s eyebrows furrowed in fury and disbelief as he slapped a hand against his chest.

 

“You know what I’ve been up to, Father!” he cried.  “You are the one who marks me after every victory!”

 

“And defeat,” Rangi added, eyebrows raised as he craned his neck to look at Maui’s back.  “It occurs to me, rather after the fact, that perhaps I should have placed some of those more humbling tattoos on your front.  Perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a mess if your shortcomings were seen as easily as your triumphs.”

 

Maui could only splutter in response.  He barely registered the wet feeling between his fingers, and he belatedly realized he had squeezed the fruit to bursting.  Rangi sighed again and patted his shoulder.  Shadows played over his face, darkening it like clouds hiding the shining sun.

 

“You know who you are by who you’ve been, Maui, but sometimes I am afraid you do not remember that,” he said.  He continued walking, and after a moment Maui jogged to catch up with him.  Rangi continued speaking as if he had not left Maui behind.  “We gods are so very different from the mortals we protect.  We merely require their worship, whereas they are in such desperate need of love.  I fear I sometimes forgot that when raising you.”

 

“I’m –” Maui started, but Rangi chuckled and cut him off.

 

“A demigod, but you were not always so.  You were as mortal as that human child I placed over your heart when I plucked you from the sea,” he said.  Maui bristled, but Rangi took no note.  “The world needs demigods, Maui, but sometimes I wonder how wise we were in creating them.  You live in a place between us, not quite a god but not quite a human anymore, either.  It must be so hard to live up to the expectations placed upon you.”

 

“Father, you aren’t making any sense,” Maui argued.  “I don’t understand.  I –”

 

“I told you to find your way,” Rangi pressed, cutting him off.  “I sent you back to the mortals who abandoned you hoping you could learn to understand that humanity in you, but you have always acted as impulsively and impetuously as a god.  You are a demigod, Maui.  You need their love as much as you need their praise.  Do you not understand that yet?  Do you not yet know who you are?”

 

“I am Maui,” Maui said sharply, eyes narrowing at his father.  “Shapeshifter, Demigod of the Wind and Sea, Hero to All.”

 

“And?” Rangi asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.  Maui huffed out a breath, folding his arms over his chest.  “Who are you, Maui?”

 

“This is ridiculous, father!  What is the point of this?!  Why are you here?!” Maui demanded, and Rangi sighed again.  He hung his head, looking down to where his toes were buried in the sand.  He seemed momentarily distracted, and Maui frowned at how preoccupied the Sky Father was with wiggling his toes.

 

“I miss the sand,” Rangi murmured.  “I miss the solidity beneath me.”

 

He looked out to the sea, watching the water dancing with an expression that was as timeless as he.  Maui followed his gaze, but his attention was drawn miles away to that speck.  How long had passed exactly?  Had it only been the night or was it longer?  Had Erepu taken his proper place as the chief’s husband?  Was Moana still furious at him?  His chest felt tight, constrictive, at the thought.  She would marry Erepu out of duty and spite, and she would refuse him on their island and every island to follow until…and it would be better that way.  Wouldn’t it?

 

“Tell me of her,” Rangi bade, and Maui jumped at the words.  He looked back to the Sky Father, trying and failing to school his expression into something neutral.  Rangi’s smile was kind, his eyes earnest, and Maui’s breath caught in his chest.  “Yes, I have been following your adventures.  I saw as you robbed Te Fiti of her heart, and I watched as you lived out your punishment.  It was a painful lesson, but one you sorely needed – why do you think I made that mark as large as I did?”

 

He had never really wondered, given the somewhat malleable nature of his tattoos.  Some changed size with time and space, and he had never made the correlation between their initial size and the significance of their meaning.  They were simply his badges of courage, if you will.  The history of his accomplishments…and defeats.  That particular tattoo, of Te Ka knocking him from the sky, was one he usually tried his best to ignore.

 

“I know what you’ve been up to, but I want to hear it from you.  I know Moana.  I have watched her since she was a child, since the Ocean first called to her,” Rangi said fondly.  His eyes crinkled at the edges with his smile.  “But I do not want to know what _I_ know.  Why would I?  I already know it.”

 

He tried not to snort at his father’s meager attempt at a joke.  He really did.

 

“I want to know what you know, my son,” Rangi continued.  “I want to know who Moana is to you.  And maybe what you have learned from all of this.  As I said: it has been entirely too long.  I have seen, but now I want to know.”

 

Sometime during their talk Rangi had stopped walking, and he sat himself on a boulder looking out across the sea.  Maui tried to follow his gaze, wondering if it was locked on that little speck as his had been, but the sea was vast and the fascination of the Sky Father’s eye was impossible to guess.  Maui sighed heavily and sat beside the boulder.  He turned his own eyes to that speck, and if he tortured himself enough he could see the gleam of the sun on Moana’s hair.  Hear the peal of her laughter as she danced.

 

So Maui told his father a story.  He told him of a lost little boy thrust unceremoniously into a world that had rejected him, of the loneliness and pain he had been ashamed to feel because he was a demigod and should have been above such things.  He told him of every adventure and the mortals he had accomplished them for, and how it was never, ever enough.  He told him of his ultimate downfall, of thinking they would finally embrace him if he gave them the gift of Creation – something he knew now was meant for the gods and the gods alone.  He told him how he had fallen and how a millennium in isolation had failed to teach him the lessons three months with a mortal child could.  And oh, that child.  He told him of a scrappy little not-a-princess who had had the audacity to grab a demigod by the ear and demand – not supplicate, not beg, not even kindly request, but _demand_ – he right his wrongs and restore Te Fiti’s heart.  He told him of her determination, her courage, and above all her heart.  He told him of his fear, of his own panic in the light of his shortcomings, and the kindness that had made him feel…human.  Of the girl that had dared tell him he was enough, just as he was.  That he didn’t need a magical fishhook or incredible strength or daring deeds or anything beyond simply being _Maui_.  And he told him of the friendship they had formed, of how her village had welcomed him back as a hero, and how that suddenly didn’t seem to matter as much as the way the girl smiled when he had decided to stay.  Or the way she hadn’t when he had decided to leave.

 

“So Moana is your friend,” Rangi said when he had grown silent.  Maui grunted, unsure how to continue.  “She is more?”

 

“She can’t be,” Maui bit, his voice thick with a tangle of regret and determination.  Rangi’s head tilted to the side.

 

“Why is that?  She sounds wonderful,” he sighed.  Maui couldn’t bite back the groan this time, no matter how disrespectful it was.

 

“I think you might have been right,” he ground out.  “Why did you create demigods?  Why did you bring us to this station of not-quite, where we spend so many years yearning for acceptance just to find it in someone who will inevitably be taken away?”

 

“And that is why you will not allow yourself to love her?”

 

Maui choked.  He coughed violently, his very breath gagging him as Rangi continued to stare impassively at the sea.

 

“Woah, there!  I don’t…I can’t…no!” Maui cried, shaking his head.  “I don’t…that’s the problem, don’t you see?  She wants me to.  She wants to marry me!  But how can I give her that?  It’s not like you’d…no.  Never mind.  You wouldn’t.”

 

“Wouldn’t what, Maui?” Rangi asked.  Maui was almost afraid to look at him.

 

“How can I love her, father?  She will age.  She will grow old and die, and I will remain…what can I possibly offer her?  She would come to hate me in time.  They always do,” he sighed, his words heavy on his heart.  “Mortals always come to resent the immortal.  Unless…she was immortal herself.”

 

“Maui…” Rangi sighed, but now that it was out there Maui had to know.

 

“You could make her a demigoddess,” he said.  “Think of all she has done!  The Ocean chose her to save Te Fiti – to save the world!  Surely that deserves some kind of recognition?  If she were immortal –”

 

“Loving her would be no easier,” Rangi said, his voice suddenly harsh and cold as the northern skies.  Maui paused when his father turned to look at him, his eyes twin flecks of ice.  “Do you think that would solve your problems, Maui?  That by granting her immortality she could not be separated from you, that you would be spared the pain of her inevitable demise?”

 

He felt worse, if possible.  More foolish for asking than he had for thinking.  He hung his head, but Rangi reached out and grabbed his chin, pulling his head back to face him.

 

“I am immortal, Maui, as is Papatuanuku.  And where is she, my son?  Where is she?” the Sky Father asked, and his voice – the grief in his eyes, the rains that fell upon the earth – was unbearable.  Rangi’s hand left his chin to press against the sand, his fingers burrowing beneath the grains.  “She is here, where I can never be.  She is forever beyond my reach, and she is just as immortal as I.  Do you still believe immortality would be the answer to your plight?”

 

No, Maui knew.  It wouldn’t be.  Because the Earth Mother was just as immortal as the Sky Father, but should they ever be rejoined it would spell the destruction of life as they knew it, the very world snuffed out of existence.  No, immortality was no guarantee that love would be forever.

 

“We are immutable,” Rangi continued.  At Maui’s look, he dipped his head in concession.  “I am immutable.  The world grows old and changes around us while the gods remain the same.  We are what we are, my son, and there is no deviating from that.  But mortals…they burn so brightly while they are here, and yes, you will lose her someday.  But someday is not today, and why do you spurn what she offers you today?  I think we often forget just how precious that gift is.”

 

“…even if I would, I can’t,” Maui confessed after a long moment.  At Rangi’s look, Maui raised his head to look back to her island.  “She’s getting married today.  I’m too late, father.  I’d never make it back in time to stop the wedding.”

 

“And why is that, I wonder?” Rangi asked, and Maui looked at him as if he had spouted another head.  “Maui, where do you think you are?”

 

He felt a fool for not realizing it sooner.

 

There was no sun in the sky, and Rangi walked the earth.  Rangi could never walk the earth.

 

“I called you to a nearby island, yes, and then I called you to this place,” Rangi said.  He waved his hand about, gesturing to the beach they sat on.  “A dream place.  It takes some effort, but it is not impossible.  How else could I have hoped to speak with you?”

 

He could feel his face burning in shame.  He should have realized sooner.  But that meant…if he was truly asleep, if this was all a dream…

 

“You should wake up now.”

 

Rangi’s voice was airy, his smile once again warm as summer sunshine.  His eyes twinkled at Maui.

 

“You should go back to her,” he continued.  “Don’t let her marry that Erepu boy.  He sounds horrible.”

 

“I didn’t…” Maui paused when Rangi chuckled.

 

“I know Erepu,” he said.  “Just as I know you.  Now, wake up, will you?”

 

– V –

 

It took him considerably less time to fly back to the island.  The winds seemed to aid him, pushing at his wings to encourage him to soar faster.  His body thrummed with renewed energy, and he felt…lighter.  Freer.  When he landed on the beach, just beyond the spot where he had fled not so long before, the sun was just hinting below the horizon.  The village would still be asleep, especially after last night’s festivities, and Moana…

 

He quickly made his way up the path, moving quietly to avoid waking anyway in the predawn.  When he reached the fale Moana still shared with her parents, he found Pua snoring happily just outside the entrance.  He smiled fondly at the aging pig, a spark of inspiration lighting in his mind.  With a flash, he had transformed into a large piglet.  Smaller than Pua, but barely, and he was sure a deep russet in color.  He slipped past the sleeping pig and snuck inside the fale.  He could hear Chief Tui’s snores from the left of the room, but to the right…there was Moana, curled in on herself under a blanket.

 

For someone who was supposed to be getting married in a few hours, she looked horrible.  Dried tears crusted her cheeks, as if she had cried herself to sleep.  Her back was towards her parents, as if she had been ashamed or had been trying to hide her distress.  Her face, even in sleep, was scrunched, and seeing her that way tore at him.  His snout snuffled against her, rooting under the blanket and pressing at the arms that hugged close to her chest.  She squirmed, groaning slightly, but he was persistent.  Finally, her eyes opened, blinking at him blearily through the darkness.

 

“Pua…?” she whispered, and he snorted at her.  Her eyes widened as she seemed to realize he was most definitely not Pua, nor any other pig on the island, which would mean…  “…Maui?”

 

He snorted again, tugging at the blanket before biting at the lei on her wrist and pulling.  She frowned as she sat up but otherwise made no move to follow.  He continued to pull, trying to lead her away – to somewhere they could talk without waking the entire village.

 

“What is it, Maui?  I thought I told you…” she paused as he gave her an entreating look, at least as best he could manage while looking like a pig.  She gently pulled her wrist from his mouth before placing a hand against his cheek.  “You want me to come with you?”

 

He nodded.  He wasn’t expecting her to come so easily, especially not after how they had left things, but she stood without another word and gestured for him to lead the way.  The walk back to the beach, to that spot where she had told him to leave her island, seemed much longer than the night before.  He remained in the piglet form as he led her, refusing to shift back until they were a safe distance away from the sleeping village.  When he finally did stand before her, she looked…not as furious as the night before, but he could still see her anger and hurt simmering beneath the surface.

 

“What do you want, Maui?  I should be sleeping,” she bit, her words as sharp as her glare.  He raised his head, looking up at her, and swallowed thickly.

 

“You.”

 

There would be no taking it back now.

 

She seemed startled, but there was still a mask of hesitation guarding her expression.  He knew a thing or two about armor, and he could read the way she guarded herself against hope in her stiff posture, the way she hugged her arms close to herself, the firm set of her jaw.  He knew a thing or two about armor, and he knew he had to let his go if this was going to work.  If she was going to believe his words and accept him as he knew she wanted.  As he hoped she still did, at least, if he hadn’t botched it too badly the previous night.  As he prayed she did, since it was all he wanted.

 

“Moana, you were right.  You can’t marry Erepu,” he said.  He took a step towards her, and while she didn’t move back she didn’t seem to relax any, either.  He reached out for her, placing his hands just below her shoulders.  “You don’t love him.  You could marry him and fulfil your duty as chief, but you’ll be miserable the rest of your life.”

 

“I don’t see you giving me any other options,” she said bitterly, and he shook his head.

 

“I’m a damned fool, Moana,” he said.  His lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile.  “What was it you called me?  An ‘emotionally-stunted, stubborn ass’?”

 

“For starters,” she quipped, and he chuckled.  It was enough to bring a slight smile to her lips, a slight dip in her posture.

 

“Marry me instead,” he entreated.  When her eyes widened, he offered her the best smile he could manage.  It came much easier than he had anticipated.  “You were right.  I do love you, but I was…afraid.  I didn’t think you could love me, and when you said you did…even if you did…I didn’t think I’d have anything to offer you.  I still don’t think I do, not really.”

 

“What’s changed?” she asked.  Her voice was bitter and disbelieving to his ears.  “What could possibly have changed to make you realize all this in only a few hours?”

 

“I flew away from you,” he said, his grip tightening on her arms.  She seemed surprised, and his smile turned bittersweet.  “And…I may have had a visit from my…an old friend, who maybe told me I was being an idiot letting you marry someone else.  I don’t have anything to offer you except love, Moana, and I’m standing here praying that’s enough.”

 

“It’s all I wanted, you dummy,” she sighed.  He looked back up to her and realized she was smiling.  She looked so happy, so hopeful, and just as he dared to let that hope start to build in himself she shrugged his hands off her arms.  He wasn’t given a chance to question her before she threw herself at him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.  “You idiot.  You big, dumb idiot.”

 

He returned her hug, bending to wrap himself around her possessively.  They had hugged before, yes, but never like this.  This was an acknowledgment, a submission, an acquiescence.  This was him no longer fighting against everything he wanted.  This was realizing who he was, who he was always meant to be, and for once in his fool life not running from it.  This was…

 

This was home.

 

He had been content to hold her there.  At some point she had led him to a boulder, and he had sat with his back against the rock and Moana curled in his lap as they watched the sunrise.  They spoke in hushed tones, not really having a reason for the quiet but not really wanting to disturb it, either, as they watched the sun rise above the horizon.  For the first time in years Maui felt truly free, truly relaxed.  He wasn’t sure at what point exactly the kissing had started, but he wasn’t about to push Moana away when she reached up to peck her lips against his own.  It was much later when they heard the first stirrings from the village, the shouts and calls of the people preparing for a wedding, when Moana finally shifted away from him.

 

“We should…we have to tell them,” she said.  He pulled her back to him as she tried to stand, and she laughed as she chastised him.  He grinned and kissed her one last time.  He could just see the look on Erepu’s face when they announced to the entire village there would be no wedding – or maybe there would be, but it certainly wouldn’t be his.

 

“We will,” he said, standing and pulling her with him.  She laughed as he grabbed her hand, holding it tight as he started to lead them back to the village.  “Together.”

 

“I think I’d like that,” she hummed, squeezing his hand.

 

“Yeah, me, too,” he said.  “I think I’d like that a lot.”


End file.
